Once More With Feeling, DNAngel Style
by WolfBane2
Summary: DNAngel's version of the Buffy The Vampire Slayer musical, Once More With Feeling. Random outbursts of singing, Takeshi's latest conspiracy, and the painting may be the only one who knows what's going on. Chapter 3 up.
1. Going Through The Motions

Excuse: Because it seemed like a good idea at the time.

Casting Call For Act One:

Dark-Buffy

Daisuke-Also sort of Buffy, but not really

Policemen-Zombies/vampires

Ordinary Pieces of Art-Victim

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Another day, another heist. The objective of this outing was to steal the painting entitled "Consciously". It was a two-centuries-old piece of artwork, framed in the finest mahogany and hanging behind its protective clear covering in the private collection of a middle-aged art dealer, who lived in a small nearby city. The targeted location was only about a half hour away from Daisuke's home as the crow flies; an expression that the Phantom Thief Dark took close to heart. The painting's plight was simple enough; the spiritual power funneled into it by its creator had grown with age, until it presented a danger to anyone who came into direct contact with it, though its exact effects weren't clear as of yet. It was a beautiful enough artwork; a depiction of a forest lit by sunlight, with solid birds of every color and form perched on slender tree branches, and a figure standing with its back to the looker, its arms raised to conduct the birdsong. The sunlight streamed through the figure, as if it were nothing more than a memory. His job was to perform a temporary seal on the piece, then bring it back to Emiko and Daiki so that its powers could be permanently locked away. Emiko's research (or to put it more accurately, wild guessing) had determined that there wouldn't be much security, just a few basic alarms and the dozen or so police troops that were certain to lurk around the collector's home after Dark's note was received.

_There's our stop_, Dark told Daisuke cheerfully as he hovered above a newly restored mansion on the outskirts of the city. Without giving his other self time to protest, ebony wings folded closer to their master's sides, and he swooped downward towards the art dealer's abode on a straight path towards the roving searchlights beaming from beside the circle of police cars. In the back of their mind, Daisuke mentally ground his teeth, but Dark's actions had frightened him so many times before that the red-haired teenager had begun to lose heart in screaming bloody murder each time they brushed with death or capture.

As he expertly tilted With's wings so that he was aimed towards the mansion's sprawling back lawn, the Phantom Thief remembered to aim a dazzling smile to the pack of fangirls that howled happily to him from behind the police barricade. Several of the young females swooned in joy, each certain that the kaitou's charming grin had been meant for them and them alone. Meanwhile, Dark sailed into the shadows, edging close to the stone wall of the old home. Having analyzed the build of the mansion from the blueprints that Emiko had tracked down (how DID she find all this information so quickly, anyway?), he felt along the wall for the unused door leading to the basement that he knew was there. The phantom thief was briefly struck by the idea that he heard someone singing nearby, but quickly dismissed this. Who would be singing at such a late hour in the middle of a backyard?

"Every single night, the same arrangement  
I go out and fight the fight  
Still I always feel the strange estrangement  
Nothing here is real, nothing here is right"

_Dark? What are you doing?_ Daisuke's mental voice was gently bewildered, sounding as though something had startled the boy. Dark wondered why he sounded so puzzled, but then his fingers found the rusty handle to the hidden door, and the time for questions had passed.

_What does it look like I'm doing? I'm sneaking into the basement, _the Phantom Thief snapped irritably to his counterpart. The door was sticking; not surprisingly, considering as though it appeared the building's current owner had no idea it was there at all. Good, then the police wouldn't be expecting him to enter from a back way. He could easily come up behind them and knock the guarding squad out without noise, or perhaps even just grab the painting and leave without them knowing he'd been there at all (until one happened to turn around and notice that Consciously had gained the power of invisibility, that is). And the singer was still going at it, despite the otherwise grave silence of the night that surrounded them.

"I've been making shows of trading blows  
Just hoping no one knows  
That I've been going through the motions,  
Walking through the part  
Nothing seems to penetrate my heart"

Daisuke's reply was brisk and annoyed, the psychological equivalent of him rolling his eyes at the Phantom Thief that was his other side. _I don't mean that, I mean why are you si-_

_Shh! We've got company. _Six police officers were in the basement with them, where the dealer kept her collection of masterpieces. Despite what he thought to be a quiet entrance, somehow every single one of them had immediately realized his presence and had whirled around. Their hands were flying to their belts; some towards communication devices to alert their superiors, some towards guns and clubs. Dark braced himself, and sprang for the nearest officer. Vaguely, he became aware of the fact that he was the one singing. Actually, he had quite a nice voice, though he'd never noticed it before that moment. Somewhere in the farthest reaches of his thought process, a part of him realized the fact that singing was not something a Phantom Thief, or any thief for that matter (as far as he knew of), would rationally do while in the middle of a burglary. But at the moment, it seemed perfectly natural.

"I was always brave, and kind of righteous  
Now I find I'm wavering  
Crawl out of your cars, you find this fight  
Just doesn't mean a thing"

What was even more bizarre than the fact he had, without rhyme or reason, suddenly burst into song, it appeared the policemen were quite happy to aid the musical. A bound, two connections of fist and skull, and a pair of them dropped to the cold concrete floor. As they crumpled, one with an average bass voice sang back, "He ain't got that swing."

Dark's reply was lilting and sarcastic. "Thanks for noticing."

Whirling, the Phantom Thief's wings threw two more against the wall. The fifth officer was bringing his communications device up to his ear, but a quick swat and he collapsed, the silver walkie-talkie clattering to the ground, still safely deactivated. However, the final officer had drawn his gun and managed to fire at the brigand. Although his shot missed by several feet, the sound would undoubtedly give away his location to the small army that was waiting in all the wrong places to ambush him. As their companions were thoroughly thrashed, the still-conscious policeman from before and the final officer harmonized for the song's chorus.

"He does pretty well with cops from hell  
But lately we can tell  
That he's just going through the motions  
Faking it somehow"

And the choir didn't help.

As his gloved hand came down upon the final officer's temples, the blue-clad man melodized conclusively, "He's not even half the jerk he-ow!"

With flowing movements of liquid-mercury, the Phantom Thief Dark slid over to the object of pursuit. Quickly deactivating a miniscule trigger designed to shrill an alarm upon the artwork's removal, he gently took the painting by the top of its frame and lifted it off the wall. All the while, he continued singing in a low tenor, which filled the somber storage space like a teacher who is naturally gifted with the power to hold students' attention without shouting (a very rare thing nowadays, Dark had noted by observation of Daisuke's classes)

"Will I stay this way forever?  
Sleepwalk through my life's endeavor?"

Around him, the other, more ordinary works of art whimpered their thanks for removing the danger. They didn't speak in words, exactly, but Dark could understand the silent language of his kin. "How can we repay-"

His reply was short, clipped from lack of time for socializing. Ordinarily he loved praise, but the Phantom Thief wasn't in the mood and could already hear the stampeding footsteps on the beginning of the staircase that led down into the basement. "Whatever." In a slightly softer tone not at all directed to the grateful paintings and statues around him, he sang, "I don't wanna be…"

The first policeman leapt from the fifth-to-bottom stair onto the concrete floor, his hands trembling wildly as he aimed his gun around the room, but by then Dark had vanished into the moonless night. Bewildered, the officer slowly lowered his gun, and then howled rage at the velvety blue-black sky. If he had listened carefully, strands of melody that drifted back through the darkness might have brushed his ears, but his useless anger drowned them out in a roaring flood.

"Going through the motions  
Losing all my drive  
I can't even see  
If this is really me  
And I just wanna be...

Alive."

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Author's Note: This is hopefully continue throughout the entire ensemble of songs from the Buffy The Vampire Slayer musical, "Once More With Feeling". Because WolfBane2 likes those songs. But she's not guaranteeing anything. WolfBane2 is not expecting reviews for this chapter, because this song (although she likes this song, herself) is extraordinarily dull when read, hence WolfBane2's mediocre writing brought it down to an all-time low. The title of this chapter's song is "Going Through The Motions", which is also from Once More With Feeling and therefore not owned by WolfBane2. Please continue to watch for the next chapter, which includes a much funnier song about bunnies, as well as Takeshi.


	2. I've Got A Theory and The Mustard

Casting Call For Act Two:

Daisuke-Buffy

Daiki-Giles (mostly)

Takeshi-Anya (mostly)

Risa, Emiko, Kosuke, Towa- Willow, Xander, Tara (alternating)

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Daisuke took a deep breath. On the wall above him, the clock's hour hand struck five o' clock in the afternoon. The teenage boy's geometry homework lay before him, all of its answer spaces thoroughly and completely blank. Of course, the adolescent was having difficulty focusing on pentagram angles and the square area of a heart, due to the pestering questions that the voice within his mind continued bothering him with. If this sentence had been applied to the average teenager, 9 out of 10 citizens would immediately recommend a visit to the local psychiatrist and some good, strong sleeping pills. Of course, Niwa Daisuke was not, underneath his placid surface, your average teenager.

_So you just burst into song for no apparent reason? _He questioned for what was, to his count, the seventh time.

The reply was firm, as though the phantom thief was explaining to his host why the sky appears blue, and has been explaining this patiently for quite some time. _Yes._

_And it seemed perfectly normal?_

_Yes, Dai-chan._

_You're enjoying this, aren't you._

A jovial edge crept into his other side's thought speech. _A little bit. _

A weary sigh escaped the redhead's lips, and he dropped his head forward to rest on his arms, crossed over one another on top of the homework he had every intention of doing. Eventually. _This is crazy-_

His silent complaint to the other presence within his mind was abruptly interrupted by the yell that traveled up the stairs and slammed against his door. "DAISUKE!" It was Towa's joyful yowl, loud enough to literally rattle the pencil lying unused beside his left hand.

_Emiko should rent her out as a cheaper version of a messenger service, _Dark said conversationally. _You wouldn't have to spend any money on phone calls or Internet, you'd just rent Towa-chan and she'd be able to deliver messages to foreign countries by lifting her voice._

Meanwhile, the energetic art spirit continued calling enthusiastically,_ "DAISUK-EEEE! YOUR FRIENDS ARE HERE!"_

"Friends?" Daisuke repeated out loud, puzzled. "But no one said they'd be coming over-"

_You have friends? _Dark interrupted with mock bewilderment, grinning.

_Ah, shove it, Dark._ In the manner of someone who found his approaching task extraordinarily painful, the teenage male dragged himself to his feet and shuffled to the door of his bedroom. For the third time, Towa trilled, "DAISUK-EEEE!" But now her shrill soprano was accompanied by a rougher alto that somehow managed to be even louder than the female embodiment of an artwork.

_Wonderful_, the Phantom Thief's voice drawled from the air around his tamer. _The junior detective. I wonder what his latest hare-brained scheme is?_

_Dark!_, The redhead mentally scolded, scurrying down the stairs in hopes of avoiding being sued by the neighbors for noise pollution. _That's not nice, Saehara-kun's been my friend for years. _

The kaitou appeared to consider this for a moment, then an image of his other side nodding flashed into Daisuke's mind. _Yeah,_ he grumbled good-naturedly. _Besides, calling him hare-brained is an insult to With. After all, With is smart enough not to try to hang himself from a tree by a makeshift harness just for two blurry photos. Even if the photos ARE of the great Phantom Thief Dark._

Daisuke rolled his eyes, but had no time to respond, as he was suddenly being forced downward by the mysterious arm that had looped itself around his shoulders and was beginning the procedure known to most as strangling. The owner of said arm cried enthusiastically, and directly in the teenage boy's ear, "HIYA DAISUKE!"

"Saehara-kun, get off!" The redhead pushed the arm away, and managed to slip free from the reporter-in-training's version of a friendly greeting.

In his most helpful manner, Dark commented off-handedly, _Actually, you know what he reminds me of? A German Shepherd._

The sound of a throat being coyly cleared made Daisuke's head shoot up, resulting in a sharp cramp taking up residence in the back of his neck. Rubbing the top of his spine, the redhead turned to see Harada Risa perched primly on the edge of a kitchen stool. "Harada-san!" he yelped in surprise, not because of her presence but because of her appearance. Her long mane of chocolate hair, usually groomed to shining perfection, was tousled and frizzy, lacking any of her usual ribbons. The creamy T-shirt she wore was wrinkled, and her deep blue short-skirt was frayed at the edges. Her normally rosy face was ashen, and the skin beneath her eyes was marred with shades of purple from lack of sleep.

"Harada-san, is something wrong?" The words escaped him before he could clamp them back down into his throat. Though Daisuke had posed the question as gently as he could, his former crush's bottom lip trembled, and Takeshi gave his childhood friend a look that would have been more suitable for someone belching in the middle of a high-class restaurant.

Risa's shoulders convulsed, her frazzled bangs hiding her eyes as she whispered hoarsely, "Riku…Riku's been…kidnapped."

The floor promptly vanished from beneath Daisuke's feet. As he stuttered incomprehensibly, his other half whistled. _Who'd want to kidnap her? _

After several seconds, he finally managed to shout, "WHAT!" Daisuke considered his response for a moment, then decided to add, "Where? When?"

"Last night, at home she just vanished," Risa told him, her head lowered, voice flat. "We were arguing, and I'd gone into the bathroom to brush my teeth. When I came out, she wasn't there. I looked all over the house, and my parents reported her missing to the police, but…" Her explanation faded out, and was replaced by an almost tangible silence.

Daisuke wanted to demand that she supply him with more details. Daisuke wanted to leap out of his house's front door and tear down the street, calling for his missing girlfriend. Daisuke wanted to flee back up to his room, dive under the covers of his futon, and hide from the unfair world surrounding him. Instead of taking any of these three options, what Daisuke's mouth blurted out to his two companions was, "Uh…last night, did any of you…uh…burst into song?" He clapped his hand over his mouth immediately, but the words had already flown out of his control. Risa's head slowly lifted, as she and the reporter-in-training turned as one to stare at their friend, each wearing an indecipherable expression.

Then all hell proceeded to break loose.

"Merciful Zeus!" Takeshi yelped. As soon as the silence shattered, Emiko, Towa, Daiki, and Kosuke all rushed into the room through the door leading to the front hallway, where they (meaning Emiko) had apparently been eavesdropping on the conversation. Daisuke's former crush sprang to her feet, and there was a dull flash of gleaming black plastic as Takeshi whipped his ever-handy pen and notepad from the pocket of his shirt. All but Kosuke and Daisuke began jabbering at once, their words clamoring over and through one another until it was impossible to catch anything but frazzled snatches of sentences.

"We thought it was just us!" (Risa)

"Well, I sang, but I had my old guitar in the attic and-" (Daiki)

"It was bizarre. We were talking and then it was like-" His mother paused, apparently unsure exactly what her musical experience could be compared to.

"Like you were in a musical!" Risa finished excitedly.

Emiko snapped her fingers. "Yeah!"

From the edge of the room, Kosuke commented in the mild tone of someone who has long grown used to the inexplicable effects of living with a Niwa, "That would explain the backing orchestra I couldn't see, not to mention the synchronized dancing from With here."

"Kyu!" the shapeshifter added helpfully, nudging the brown-haired man's fingers as they ran over his back.

Towa announced cheerfully to no one in particular, "Me and Emiko-san did a duet about dish-washing."

Meanwhile, from the side of the room where she and Takeshi stood, Risa rambled, "And we were arguing and then everything rhymed and there were harmonies and the dance with coconuts-"

Oblivious of her son's former crush, Emiko continued, "There was an entire verse about dish soap."

Finally, Takeshi ended the tangling sentences and mingled conversations by concluding, "It was very disturbing." There was a brief quiet, during which everyone attempted to gather their thoughts and to get their tongues back into working order.

Kosuke turned to Daisuke with an inquisitive gaze. He asked, "What did you sing about, Daisuke?"

In the farthest reaches of his mind, the red-haired teenager felt the Phantom Thief stiffen. Suddenly Dark's warm presence seemed very in danger of fading into elsewhere, until he wasn't anything more than the reflection of a form that had long ago aged to nothingness. "I…I don't remember," Daisuke stuttered lamely, taking a step backwards. "But it seemed perfectly natural."

His father eyed him skeptically, but he was saved by Takeshi's inability to wait until a conversation was finished before speaking. The brunette interjected, "But disturbing. And not in the natural order of things, that's for sure. Ya think it'll happen again?"

"I don't know," Daiki murmured thoughtfully, rubbing his stubble of beard. "I should look into it."

"With the books." Emiko added. Risa and Takeshi, playing the role of mystified onlookers due to their lack of Niwa family history knowledge, looked back and forth between the woman and elderly man as if the two were engaged in a tennis match. Towa busied herself running a duster over the perfectly-clean top of the bookcase behind her "savior", which actually had the opposite of the desired effect by sprinkling particles of dust onto the wooden surface from the duster's feathers.

The former recipient of Dark turned to his daughter, doubtful. "Do we have any books on this?"

Kosuke told them in his typically logical manner, "Well, we just have to break it down into cause and effect, look at the factors before it happens again. Because I for one-"

Whatever he was going to say next was blockaded by his wife. She had been fidgeting where she stood as he began to speak, shifting her weight from foot to foot agitatedly. At last, Emiko could no longer resist the overwhelming urge that was washing over the room's occupants, and a tune ripped its way free from her throat. "I've got a theory, that it's a demon, A dancing demon! …No, something isn't right there."

Risa's voice was sweet, but pitched back and forth unexpectedly and had frayed angles. "I've got a theory,  
Some kid is dreamin', And we're all stuck inside his wacky Broadway nightmare."

Kosuke chimed in, "I've got a theory we should work this out,"

Risa, Takeshi, and Towa chorused, "It's getting eerie, what's this cheery singing all about?"

"It could be witches, some evil witches," Daiki's proposal was quickly shot down by a death glare directed to him from his daughter. The elderly man threw up his hands, hastily adding, "Which is ridiculous 'cause witches they were persecuted, wicca good and love the Earth and womanpower and I'll be over here." With that, he tiptoed quietly to the corner and sat on a wooden chair, hoping to avoid the wrath of Niwa Emiko.

Takeshi trilled boldly, "I've got a theory, it could be bunnies."

This theory was greeted by absolute silence, unshattered but for startled blinking. With was the only one to look directly at the expectant reporter-to-be, and his enormous crimson eyes were full of wonder and grave doubt. After a few wire-strung moments eased themselves past, Towa picked up the musical number once again with, "I've got a-" But Takeshi was far from finished.

"Bunnies aren't just cute like everybody supposes!  
They've got them hoppy legs and twitchy little noses!  
And what's with all the carrots?  
What do they need such good eyesight for anyway?  
Bunnies, bunnies it must be BUNNIES!"

All this was yowled on a single breath, and the brunette was forced to halt his raving to pant heavily, his tongue hanging from his mouth like an overexcited dog's. Each of the room's occupants stared at him, too incredulous to speak (excluding With, who was busy directing all the hatred he could muster up into a death glare towards the nosy human for daring to insult his kindred). After a thoughtful pause, he wondered outloud, "Or maybe midgets-"

Quickly interrupting the reporter-in-training's latest potential conspiracy before he could give With more evidence with which to commit homicide, Emiko cut in, "I've got a theory we should work this fast,"

Her husband's voice sailed up the musical scale to take a note below hers, and they finished together, "Because it clearly could get serious before it's passed." Daiki rose from his seat, and began to move towards the doorway leading to the Niwas' extensive, cluttered library of information related to artwork.

Daisuke's song, quiet and steadily-pitched, wove throughout the room. "I've got a theory, it doesn't matter." Daiki's hobbling steps halted, and one by one his friends and family turned to look at him. The redhead took a deep breath, and then continued, at first hesitating but gathering strength as the melody went on.

"What can't we face if we're together?  
What's in this place that we can't weather?  
Apocalypse?  
We've all been there.  
The same old trips  
Why should we care?"

As if on an invisible cue, the other six human voices rose to join his; rich, gravelly, lilting, rough, flute-like, chiming. "What can't we do if we get in it?  
We'll work it through within a minute  
We have to try  
We'll pay the price  
It's do or die  
Fire or ice  
What can't we face if we're together?  
What's in this place that we can't weather?  
There's nothing we can't face-"

Takeshi abruptly dropped onto the couch, rubbing his forehead wearily. "Except for bunnies."

Suddenly, the nonexistent music fled from the aura of the room, and all that was left were six people looking very silly, and a rabbit throwing nasty looks at the reporter-in-training. Risa sat on the other end of the couch, commenting, "See, okay, that was definitely disturbing."

Shaking the duster out above the kitchen garbage can, Towa chirped brightly, "I thought it was neat!"

"So what is it?" Daisuke asked, a hopeless note in his tone. His hands suddenly seemed awkward by his sides, and he wrung them together behind his back nervously as he waited for someone, anyone, to rationalize the alternate universe he seemed to have been thrown into. "What's causing it?'

A smug Takeshi reminded his friend, "I thought it didn't matter."

Daisuke rolled his eyes, and cuffed the brunette sharply on the head. As Takeshi rubbed the side of his skull and glared reproachfully at him, the redhead retorted, "Well, I'm not exactly quaking in my oh-so-fashionable school shoes, but there's definitely something not normal about six people performing an unrehearsed song about evil rabbits –No offense, With—in the middle of a living room. And that doesn't usually lead to hugs and puppies."

"Is it just us?" Risa questioned, looking anxious as she gazed up at the Niwa boy. "I mean, is it only happening to us?"

Daisuke turned away, unable to answer the disheveled damsel-in-distress. Instead, he stepped towards the front door. As he moved to open it, Dark's voice penetrated his thoughts. _If that is the case, it probably would mean a spell or-_

The red-haired teenager threw open the door, its handle thudding solidly against the wall behind it. Gathered in the middle of the street were a dozen or so strangers, each with a dry-cleaning bag slung over their shoulders. A slightly-over-middle-aged man stood before the other eleven as their leader, swinging his dry-cleaning bag over his head in what was clearly meant to be a dramatic effect. Outside, the birds were oddly silent as this stout man bellowed, "They got…the mustard…out!"

The crowd gathered around him wielded their bags like swords as they sang back, "They got the mustard out!"

With a soft click of the door's mechanism, Daisuke swung it closed. He turned back to the expectant array of people before him, who had also watched the display in utter silence. Reluctantly, he told them what each already knew. "It's not just us."

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Author's Note: Please take note of the fact that the Casting Call tends to change quite often and without any particular rhyme or reason. It has occurred to WolfBane2 that it would have made more sense for Towa to do Anya's bunny-rant, but WolfBane2 likes Takeshi more and decided he needed a new conspiracy. The title of this chapter's song has several different names, such as "I've Got A Theory", "If We're Together" and "Bunnies". WolfBane2 likes the last one, personally, but usually uses the first one. The next chapter will contain revelations as to Riku's kidnapper, as well as a song called "Under Your Spell" which WolfBane2 will not have any fun writing because (though she likes the song) it's not funny and she has a straight pairing planned for it. Most of the pairings in this story will be straight.

Random Person: You're such a liar.

Yes WolfBane2 is. But there will be MOSTLY straight pairings. But not all. Come on, this fic will have Satoshi in it. It is nearly impossible to have Satoshi in a fic and not have some hints of gayocity in it. The fact that WolfBane2 is a faithful Dark/Krad fan does not help, considering the two pairings go hand in hand. Anyway, just so you can't say WolfBane2 never warned you, WolfBane2 warns you now that if you are an avid homophobe, please turn away from this fic and run far, far away. But WolfBane2 doubts you hate shounen-ai, because you're reading DNAngel, which is very, very hard to make appear straight despite the efforts of the anime creators. …What? You're expecting more. Go away. WolfBane2 is busy pointedly ignoring you. Go review, or flame a Mary-Sue…or something to that effect.

Oh. One last point. "The Mustard" is an entirely different song from "I've Got A Theory". The fact that it is only two lines composed of the same words is irrelevant.


	3. Under Your Spell

Casting Call For Act Three:

Daisuke (in the flashback)-Willow

Riku (in the flashback)-Tara

Daisuke (not in the flashback)-Buffy

Takeshi-Xander

Risa-Dawn

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_Flashback to 24 hours before the last chapter. Risa's point of view, but not first-person._

Risa. It'd always been about Risa. From the first moment she could remember (which happened to be from when she was about two and a half years old), everyone who came around her and her sister always adored the sweet-faced brunette. Before they entered school, their parents would most often allow Risa to choose where they would go on their day-trips, usually ask Risa what she wanted for dinner, have Risa pick out the dresses that her older sister learned early on she would be forced to where as well. Their parents took great delight in dressing the pair of little girls in matching outfits, afterwards squealing about how darling they looked and whipping out the camera to capture their appearance (and of course, the pictures would always be slightly more centered on Risa). Even on the streets, strangers would approach the family as they walked past and compliment them on their beautiful set of daughters. Whenever Riku asked why Risa got all the attention, her parents would shush her and assure her that she was only imagining it, and certainly they loved both girls equally. But Riku knew better. She always had.

The scenario repeated itself when they entered kindergarten, but managing to spiral even further downward. Now in addition to be submitted to even more strange teachers and staff twittering over them, their classmates (and often instructors, as well) were unable to tell the twins apart from one another. With their matching outfits, identical face structures, and shining auburn hair, the pair were in every physical aspect exact to one another. To tell one from another, an inexperienced student would have to accidentally call one of them by the other's name, and watch their reactions. Risa would explode into a raging verbal barrage, demanding to know how dare that person even think she could ever be Riku. Riku would only cringe, and whispered behind clamped teeth, "I'm Riku. Riku." Sometimes, she had to repeat this even to herself, so that she would not forget she was a separate being entirely, and not simply Risa's reflection.

During the summer before they entered first grade, Riku had taken it upon herself to remedy this injustice for good. Finding her parents' sharpest set of scissors, she proceeded to chop her hair into a ragged pixie cut, while in the background her sister watched, silent and curious. Even though towards the end, Risa aided her sibling and snipped the haircut into as neat a shape as she could, her parents were still outraged upon discovery of Riku's new appearance. Though her father told her tightly that it was all right, they would take her to the hairdresser in the morning to even out the frayed locks, she could sense his disdain as he looked back and forth between the no-longer identical twins. Her mother was less graceful, openly moaning about how she had lost her matching set of little girls. Riku had told her, "We're not a set." But her mother, if she'd heard her daughter at all, had not let on.

Over the years, as they'd grown up and apart, their treatment as a set had eventually faded, torn apart by social status as well as appearance. Risa had taken her place in the popular crowd, preening and cooing to manipulate others into bowing to her will. She remained as pretty as ever in cutesy T-shirts and flouncy skirts, though at age eleven she'd dyed her waterfall of hair a rich chocolate. Riku had thrown herself into the one area of life that her sister would not touch with a ten-foot poll: Sports. During middle school, she'd briefly attempted basketball, before settling on track as her main activity. When she was not at practice or school, she'd wear shorts or jeans, and plain, solid-color shirts. The red-haired girl had never been particular popular. Oh, she'd keep a few regular friends, but she kept them more for survival than company. In school, you need to be part of a pack. Loners would be prey to the more malicious cliches (such as her sister's), and to have a group of friends was to be strong and out of the predators' reach. She'd chat cheerfully with her fellow track members, for they did not pry at her true feelings and were easy to stay friendly with. She did not ask their inner thoughts, and they did not ask hers, and all went on well enough.

Boys. Riku had never been particularly fond of the opposite sex, though at times they could make her laugh with their foolish antics. Few males ever tried to court her, for she was not particular attractive and held no great status in the unwritten laws of the society that existed in all schools. The few that did were quickly turned off by her suspiciousness of them, and would wander off to find easier game.

Until he came.

"I lived my life in shadow  
Never the sun on my face.  
It didn't seem so sad, though  
I figured that was my place  
Now I'm bathed in light  
Something just isn't right"

He was nothing special, at first. Simply a stuttering classmate, who everyone but Risa knew was infatuated with her younger twin sister. But one day, when he approached her to ask advice on how to woo her sister (though he could never actually bring himself to directly ask), she found herself looking at him. Looking at him far too often. With other boys, she would gaze into their eyes, and they would lower them, looking at the ground and unwilling to meet her stare. But with this particular male, it was she who looked away first.

After that first true encounter, she began to see him more and more. It was not that Daisuke was making a special attempt to keep her company, it was simply that she began actually looking at him instead of looking through him. When he would speak to her, she found her tongue became loose and flowing, that she could tell him secrets that with any other person, even her own twin, were tightly locked away. Perhaps she was imagining it, but she liked to think that he too was encountering her more and more frequently, and not because of her connection to Risa. But Riku had long learned not to trust her imagination. It did result in disappointment so often.

"I'm under your spell  
How else could it be  
Anyone would notice me?  
It's magic, I can tell  
How you set me free  
Brought me out so easily."

Before (and even a bit after) she had discovered sports, Riku had liked to draw. She would go out to her home's backyard at twilight, and sketch the shadows that stretched out from under the trees. She enjoyed looking at each leaf separately, seeing the miniscule tears in its edges, observing the bend of its stalk. But no matter how she tried, the image that appeared on the notebook before her never came close to matching the intricate artistry she had in mind. After she was twelve or so, she finally admitted that she had no artistic talent whatsoever, and burned her notebook full of drooping sketches. As she watched the flames in the burn barrel creep up over the book's cover and incinerate the pages, she felt a part of her dreams drift away with the smoke.

"I saw a world enchanted  
Spirits and charms in the air  
I always took for granted  
I was the only one there  
But your power shone  
Brighter than any I've known"

He was different. When Daisuke had shown her the painting he'd entered in a contest, everything around her, even the redheaded boy himself, ceased to matter. All that existed was she, the swirling snow that piled on the blue-gray ridges, and the lonely figure standing ever out of reach beyond the pastel dunes. When he pulled the painting away, the real world came spinning back to smack her in the face, and she shook her head. All that she knew was that she must have that painting, right now, whatever she had to do so that the tranquility returned and that she could continue walking towards the figure that seemed so in danger of fading away into the singing winds. She'd begged him unashamedly for the painting. A bit startled, he had given it to her. Once she returned home with her treasure, Riku had stood in her room and stared long and hard at that painting for hours. But the figure remained out of her grasp, with its back to her, its faraway aura reminding her that her hands were not those that could fashion or hold fairy tales. Finally, she'd carefully hung the piece of artwork above her desk, and wept herself to sleep. Her dreams were plagued by howling blizzards that made you deaf and blind, and unicorns leaping out into the ocean to swim to somewhere beyond the sea.

"I'm under your spell  
Nothing I can do  
You just took my soul with you  
You worked your charms so well  
Finally, I knew  
Everything I dreamed was true  
You made me believe."

Now, whenever Riku was with Daisuke, she felt the way she had when she'd first gazed into that endless arctic desert. She felt as though magic could truly happen, and she was filled with unreasonable joy, in spite of her self-inflicted reservations. Her twin was forgotten, her status was forgotten, the loneliness that plagued her was gone because she realized that everyone had that loneliness, and she was not special. The news that she was alike to everyone else did not bring her sorrow, but linked her mind to a certain serenity. Whatever the danger was she was so afraid of, in his company, it had become the past. He was the solitary figure, cold and clear and very old, guiding her to paradise, or to madness.

"The moon to the tide  
I can feel you inside  
I'm under your spell  
Surging like the sea  
Pulled to you so helplessly  
I break with every swell  
Lost in ecstasy  
Spread beneath my willow tree  
You make me complete"

Riku ran a finger fondly over that same painting, her homework lying forgotten before her. She had just arrived home from the day's track practice, and her bag of sweaty clothes was still slung over the back of her chair. Around her neck was a necklace she had found, while walking the three blocks from the train station to her suburban home. It was a gothic silver chain, with a clear crystal about twice the length of her fingernail dangling at its center. Like any good crystal does, when she held it to the light, rainbow waves scattered and played across its surface.

"You make me complete  
You make me complete…"

"Riku?" Her twin's voice shattered her thoughts, as Risa's head leaned around the slightly-open doorway to peer at her, eyes bright and questioning as a raccoon's. A small grin crossed the brunette's face, rarely a good sign as far as Riku was concerned. "Was that you I heard singing?"

The redhead twisted to look at her younger-by-two-minutes sister, frowning. "What are you talking about? No one was singing. You're crazy."

Carefully-glossed lips dropped from a sly smile into a pout. Voice raised, Risa said harshly, "Stop lying! I HEARD you singing!"

"Whatever, Risa," A nasty remark came into her mind. She briefly toyed with the idea of letting the matter drop, but then remembered all the events of her past that she had been pondering in the last few minutes, and instead loosed the remark she'd thought of. "Are you sure it wasn't the voices in your tiny little head?"

A more complacent person might have stormed off after hearing this, but Risa had clawed her way to the top of the school's social structure, and therefore become an expert in verbal catfighting. "Hey, don't be bitchy with me just because you're lovesick over your darling Daisuke!"

Her cheeks flushed scarlet to match her hair. Risa, noticing this, smirked with the rightful arrogance of someone who has many years' experience under her belt of manipulating others like puppets. "I…you…get out of here, Risa!"

"I think I'll call him and tell him about your little sonata. Do you have a title for it?"

In three strides, Riku rose from her desk and threw her weight against the door. "Get…out!" With a solid thump, the door finally closed. This didn't stop the redhead from hearing her twin's tittering laughter in the hallway. She wondered for a moment if Risa was serious in her threat to call Daisuke, but doubted it. Even her sister had her limits, however twisted they may be.

With a sigh, Riku slid down to sit on the floor, her back resting against the reassuring hardness of the wooden door's surface. Her fingers came up and scrabbled around the crystal on her necklace, clenching it in her palm tightly enough for its point to dig into her skin. Though no noise came from her throat, Riku's lips moved to silently form the words that if she had been in rational thought, would have disgusted her by sounding like that of a lovesick girl (for example, Risa on the subject of Phantom Thief Dark). "I wish I could go somewhere like in his painting, somewhere just for Daisuke and me, and stay there. For ever."

A cold laugh emanated from the crystal's depths, scaling up and down the harmony scale until it echoed around itself. "Hasn't anyone ever warned you about wishing like that, foolish girl? Speak it, and so shall it be." And then her world fell into darkness.

The sparsely-decorated room was now empty, but for the watch lying on Riku's desk beside her math worksheet. Unnoticing of its surroundings, the clock hand resolutely made its way around the device's face. Tick. Tick. Tick.

_End flashback._

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"I bet they're not even researching," Takeshi complained. The three teenagers were walking down a street several blocks away from Daisuke's home. Daisuke had volunteered himself to walk his two friends to their houses, and Takeshi was loudly sharing his opinions on the bizarre phenomenon with Risa and the red-haired boy.

Risa turned her innocent hazel eyes to him, and asked, "Who?"

"Daisuke's mom and dad," Takeshi supplied, his tone having the air of a potential rant. "Did you see the way they were with each other? The get-a-roominess? I bet they're-" Daisuke dug his elbow sharply into the boy's side, and the would-be reporter immediately corrected himself. "Singing. They're probably singing right now."

"I'm sure they're making every effort." Risa simpered sweetly, but her eyes were glowing with sparks of amusement.

Takeshi unsuccessfully tried to hold back a snort of laughter. "Oh yeah. They're working alright."

His vision briefly spun as a hand descended on the back of his head and sharply cuffed him. "Saehara!"

Risa, deciding the game had gone on far enough, giggled softly as she told them, "It's all right guys. Believe it or not, I DO know what sex is." Her voice took on a dreamy haze, and she gazed into the distance at nothing. "Besides, it's all kind of romantic."

"What?" Takeshi demanded, incredulous.

She turned to the two boys with a sugary smile, fully aware of how her luscious hair bounced across her shoulders. "Come on, songs, dancing around. What could be wrong with that?"

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The soles of heavy leather shoes frantically thudded against concrete, as a man tap-danced down the street. His eyes were wild, mouth open in a silent scream. The scream burst from his throat as a lick of flame caressed his short black hair. It continued, an eerie high-pitched wail, as the fire slowly traveled to cover his arms, his chest, his legs.

All the streetlights were dimmed, so anyone looking out their windows would be unable to decipher exactly where the cry was emanating from, for the cold fire consuming the man radiated no light. He fell to the concrete, writhing as liquid skin dripped away from muscle and bone. A hand descended, and fingertips devoid of any solidity brushed the body's shoulder. A soft breath of wonder was the only noise.

The fingers withdrew, long and translucent. Rivulets of tan liquid slid down their sides for a brief moment, but then the shades dissipated, and there was nothing left but the mirage. A Cheshire cat's grin hung in the air above the corpse, humming a jangling tune that only it could hear. "Now this is entertainment."

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Author's Note: Well, that's over with. The next chapter will be far more entertaining, featuring the song "I'll Never Tell" and a pairing that is straight, but bizarre enough so that WolfBane2 will enjoy writing it. WolfBane2 enjoying something usually means that you should run far, far away and not look back at it. The title of this chapter's song was "Under Your Spell" which is actually sung by a Lesbian couple in the original episode. WolfBane2 has decided to reply to the reviews of the previous two chapters. FEEL HONORED. Oh, and remember when WolfBane2 said this chapter would result in revelations of Riku's kidnapper? She lied. It didn't really. Ah well. One more point, WolfBane2 is not certain what happened to the painting Daisuke gave Riku after the Second Hand of Time incident. So if something happened to it, we're pretending it didn't.

Sapphire Artemis: Well, as long as you read it, it doesn't really matter if you understood it. WolfBane2 knows you only read it because she told you to on Yahoo, but WolfBane2 finds this detail not of general interest. Kill the Mary-Sues.

Timetill: Takeshi plus bunnies equals comedy. Or some really nasty images. But Takeshi's good at conspiracies. WolfBane2 could see him being one of those people who thinks the government is plotting against us to suit their own purposes. Of course, WolfBane2 herself is certain of this.

Alowl: There. WolfBane2 updated. Your review was boring. Moving on.

0.o K-chan: WolfBane2 has had this idea for quite a while, ever since she first got into DNAngel. She wanted to do an anime parody of the Buffy The Vampire Slayer musical, and DNAngel seemed to fall into place. Albeit in a twisted way.

Dark Inu Fan: Your name…WolfBane2 remembers your name…did you ever go to a site called TV Tome? And yes, you have a high likelihood of being hit while interacting with WolfBane2.

EternallyFaithful: WolfBane2 is not a dude, but she liked your review. Spike…perhaps. No. Daisuke and Riku are not going to sing "I'll Never Tell". WolfBane2 already did one Daisuke/Riku chapter, don't push your luck. Daiki as Giles…positive likelihood. Yes, yes, we all know Takeshi and bunnies are amusing.

Naanaami: WolfBane2 is glad you appreciate Once More With Feeling. WolfBane2 is updating amazingly quickly (her usual update speed is two to three times a year) on this fic, so don't jinx her. But it's easier with parodies, when you already have a basic plot to follow.


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